


You Can't Even Stand, Spider-Man

by TommysIdiosyncrasy



Series: It's A Long Walk Home, Kid [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, very minor origional characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:55:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TommysIdiosyncrasy/pseuds/TommysIdiosyncrasy
Summary: Peter is drugged and almost kidnapped and Mr. Stark isn't too pleased.





	You Can't Even Stand, Spider-Man

The wind stole Peter’s laugh from his lungs, adrenaline pounding through his veins as a dull roar swooped through his ears. 

Having woken up almost twenty minutes late, Peter had decided that using Spider-Man to make it to school on time  _ once _ couldn’t be so bad. He swung right past the familiar building and launched himself into a dark alley to wriggle out of the high-tech suit. 

He knew that if he had one more unexcused absence or tardy notice, he’d be done for. After getting suspended, his aunt would kill him. 

Only when he collapsed into his seat in his homeroom, did Peter relax. He saw Ned shoot him a sympathetic smile as he started to get out his books with shaking hands, relieved he’d made it before the bell.

Peter was doing his best to keep his head down, getting to class on time and double checking that he finished his homework every night. He was staying out of trouble and staying in school now that the Vulture was no longer an issue. It was almost a relief to be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. 

By the time school was over, Peter was more than excited to head home to drop off his things and head out under the guise of his internship. Aunt May, none-the-wiser about the real reasons he was out for hours after school, had worried at first that he was being worked too hard. Peter assured her he loved the internship, and he loved being there. All it took was one quick call from Tony Stark himself to confirm where Peter was after school to put her fears to rest. 

So, Peter strolled down the sidewalk to catch the subway home when his spidey-senses twinged. He frowned slightly, glancing over his shoulder to see a man leaning against trashcan while reading a newspaper. An older woman shuffled past him while walking a tiny dog and dozens of bodies were walking on the other side of the road to their apartments after work. 

Nothing seemed to have any reason to trigger his sixth sense, but it’d never failed him before. Peter ducked his head and picked up his pace. 

He expected the hand that landed on his shoulder, his senses warning him of the two approaching men he hadn’t seen earlier. 

“Keep walkin’, kid.” One of them murmured, the threat clear in their voice. Peter didn’t react, letting them herd him down the street and down the subway. It wasn’t the one Peter was heading for, he usually used the one a street over since it was busier and had more trains running to Queens. 

Their footsteps echoed through the nearly empty subway, the low rumble of a train shuttling in made Peter wince at the loud volume. The few people that had been standing around got on, leaving Peter alone with the two strangers.

_ Danger. _

Peter tensed when something prodded him in the back, something distinctly round and hard. He figured it must have been a gun.

One of them jumped onto the tracks and the other shoved Peter forwards, making him stumble and almost fall off the edge. He cautiously hopped down and the man behind him followed suit. A silver glint in his hand caught Peter’s eye before they pressed the gun between his shoulder blades to urge him to walk.

Soon, they were walking silently through the pitch black of the subway.

Peter didn’t dare make a move to escape until he was certain there were no cameras watching them travel across the tracks. Breathing deep, Peter whipped around with a high kick and knocked the gun from the man’s hands. It landed with a clatter out of sight and the man shouted in surprise, Peter’s fist connecting with his nose and breaking the bone. 

The other man lunged forward to grab Peter, but he dodged it easily and he rolled a few feet away. There was a grunt and the sound of a fist connecting with a body.

“Where’d he go?” One of them yelled. Peter slid silently over the tracks until his back touched the wall. He started to climb up the slick bricks and paused, listening to the men struggle to orientate themselves.

Peter slid a shoe off and threw it as hard as he could in the opposite direction that they’d come. One cursed colorfully, snarling that Peter was getting away, and they took off running.

Peter stayed where he was until their footsteps were far way before dropping to the ground. Worried that another train would come, Peter sprinted back to the station.

Sucking in a deep breath, he smiled to himself as he started up the stairs. The cool air felt nice, and he was eager to catch a train home before the last departed.

He wondered who those goons were and why they’d come after him, but the sound of tires screeching interrupted his thoughts as he stepped out from the underground.

Peter leapt out of the way as a black truck skidded onto the sidewalk. A dark clothed person jumped from the bed and jumped at him. Peter realized for a terrifying moment that he wasn’t wearing his suit, that he was just Peter Parker. He couldn’t fight back and reveal himself, he was just a normal kid. 

A well-placed punch to the stomach and a harsh grip in his hair had Peter doubled over, gasping. Another set of hands grabbed his arms and yanked his backpack off his shoulders, securing his arms behind his back. 

He shouted and squirmed, kicking out and knocking one of them off as he struggled to throw the other off him. It was difficult, trying to use as much strength a scrawny high schooler would have, pulling all his punches as they surrounded him.

Soon he was on the ground, his face pressed into the concrete and all his limbs held to the cold ground. He tried to scream again, but a hand clamped over his mouth and arms lifted him into the air.

Jerking harshly, Peter freed a foot and nailed a guy in the face. He fell back but two more men replaced him.

Something sharp pressed into his neck and Peter’s body spasmed violently as an awful numbness spread through his body.

His whole body went limp, his throat closing up as he became dead weight.

“Damn brat,” Someone spat, their voice near his legs. “More trouble than he’s worth.”

Now that he could not fight back, they hauled him over one of their shoulders like a sack of potatoes. 

Peter strained to move himself, but it was like his bones had turned to jelly. Unable to do more than flop weakly and sway as the man walked, he cursed his own stupid luck.

He grunted as Peter was suddenly flung into the bed of the truck, several points lighting up in pain as he dropped like a stone in water.

“Oops.” He said without a hint of apology in his voice. 

Peter wanted to scream and thrash, struggle as one of them lifted him into their lap with a loud laugh. 

Humiliation and anger burned in his chest as they cradled him like a small child in the brute’s arms while the others watched and laughed.

With a lurch, the truck peeled down the road.

Forced to lay there, immobile, as they made jokes at his expense and rearrange him like a doll. 

Unable to move or close his eyes, they subjected him to watch their ugly faces contort with laughter and rude expressions as the city sped by. 

Soon they calmed, the man grew bored with holding him, letting Peter slump onto the dirty floor of the truck bed. Now face down, Peter felt like he could cry as he could not see where he was being taken.

An explosion forced Peter to refocus on reality. Still only able to see the black ground, he didn’t know what was happening, but he could hear the familiar sounds of repulsors charging up as another explosion causes the entire truck to veer and swerve dangerously. 

_ “It’s Iron Man!” _ Someone screamed, confirming Peter’s thoughts.

Gunshots rang through the air and they all swarmed in the cramped space, either grabbing more weapons or shielding themselves from the now open fire on Iron Man.

Hope bloomed in Peter’s stomach, warming him from his fingers to his toes. He didn’t know how, but somehow Mr. Stark had found him!

“Dump the kid!  _ Dump the kid!”  _ A panicked voice said, hands grabbing all over Peter as he was hauled up and flung over the side of the moving vehicle.

Unable to brace himself or stop his fall, Peter rolled and slid over the ground. His flesh seemed to burn off as it rubbed against the road, violent bursts of pain running up his spine as he tumbled to a stop.

Feeling dizzy and sick, Peter could only try to suck in more air to his lungs. Only, he found that his lungs seemed as unresponsive as the rest of his body. He panicked, shouting in his head as he tried to breathe. Was he breathing in the car? Had he stopped while on the sidewalk? Peter didn’t know, all he knew was that the human body couldn’t survive over ten minutes without oxygen. 

Suddenly, practically shocking him out of his spiral of anxiety, his body automatically sucked in a tiny breath and went still again. Cold relief flooded his system as he realized he was still breathing, just way too slowly. 

Peter realized he’d probably been sitting there for only a minute maybe before someone was tugging him onto his back. Someone was speaking to him.

“-er? Kid? Come on, rise n’ shine.” If Peter could speak, he would have, but he could only stare straight up at the sky as Tony Stark kneeled beside him. Still clad in his suit, he’d flipped up his face mask to reveal his rather pale face. 

There was a second of very tense silence before Mr. Stark retracted one of his gauntlets as a shaking hand pressed into his neck. He sucked in a sharp voice and suddenly the whole suit was falling away as he tumbled forwards, pulling Peter’s crumpled form to his chest.

Not unlike how he’d been mockingly held earlier, except this felt so much gentler. He was being tucked under the man’s chin as large arms held him tight. An explosive breath left Mr. Stark and his whole body seemed to jerk with it.

“Kid,  _ kid- _ ” He cut himself off, air seemingly unable to reach his lungs.

Peter couldn’t see much from where his face was against the man’s collarbone, feeling the trembling breaths and harsh gasps beneath his cheek.

He seemed to speak again, but shook his head as he held Peter’s body closer and began to rock gently on his knees. 

Peter felt almost numb with shock at Mr. Starks emotional reaction, before his heart sank. Peter must have looked dead, pale and eyes staring blankly straight ahead. He felt awful, Mr. Stark had someone found out Peter was being abducted and came rushing to save him! But whatever they’d given him had sent him into a death-like state. Peter hoped it wore off before Mr. Stark told his Aunt, he didn’t want to put her through the loss of another family member. He couldn’t do that to her.

As if he knew Peter could still hear him, he shushed him softly and shifted Peter into a seemingly more comfortable position so his arms were no longer sprawled awkwardly beside him. 

Tingles ran up and down his spine and Peter if he could move, he’d have shouted for joy. The numb and cold feeling was disappearing and feeling was rushing back into his body as pins and needles. 

A single twitch.

A soft inhale deeper than the rest. 

Mr. Stark froze. 

“Pete?” 

Peter opened his mouth and sucked in a loud breath. Shouting in astonishment, Mr. Stark scrambled to get a better look at the boy in his arms. He brushed hair from Peter’s eyes and gently tilted his face towards him. Peter felt tears pooling in the corner of his eyes as he could shift his eyes to meet Mr. Stark’s. 

“Oh my god, oh my  _ god- _ ” he was mumbling over and over, confusion and hope over his puffy face. “Peter, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand.” It seemed to take a herculean effort to make his fingers close around the inventor’s hand and apply almost minuscule pressure. A sob burst from his lips as tears were finally freed from his previously frozen eyes, blinking never seemed like such a beautiful thing. 

Mr. Stark shushed him and began rocking them again, one of Peter’s hands clinging to his shirt with a vise-like grip. 

Still unable to speak and too weak to move more than a few jerks and squirms, Peter slumped in the billionaire’s arms and buried his face into his shoulder. 

“Come on, Pete. Hup we go.” He lifted the drugged boy up bridal-style as the Iron Man suit formed around him. Peter sluggishly raised his arms to latch his hands onto the metal, trusting his spider powers to keep him stuck firmly through flight.

While in the air, Mr. Stark’s voice cut through the sound of air rushing around them. 

“If you ever scare me like that again, I’m grounding your spidery ass.” 

Peter decided that was a pretty fair deal as he sleepily clung to his hero.


End file.
